


An Unexpected Turn of Events

by kashewmoo, link621



Series: [RP] Verse with no BS - Ochi/Mouri [2]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27412036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashewmoo/pseuds/kashewmoo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/link621/pseuds/link621
Summary: A week following their fancy dinner of cheeseburgers, Mouri is enjoying a relatively low key night over at Ochi's house until Ochi asks him to move in andbut we haven't even kissed.
Relationships: Mouri Jusaburou/Ochi Tsukimitsu
Series: [RP] Verse with no BS - Ochi/Mouri [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2002729
Kudos: 1





	An Unexpected Turn of Events

**Author's Note:**

> References the COVID-19 pandemic.

Even though about a week had passed since their conversation about… things, work had quickly come to once more occupy most of Mouri’s mental space. The time spent with Ochi was mainly spent working and the time spent apart was spent cleaning everything, eating what food he could scrounge up, and crying. A lot of crying. It was manly to cry… right?

For the second time in as many weeks, Mouri found himself in Ochi’s apartment when instead of driving him home, Ochi took him on a detour to get food which led to him suggesting they just go back to his place. Exhausted and lonely, Mouri readily agreed and found himself once more on the couch snuggling a very content, thought increasingly cloud-shaped, rabbit. This time there was no hand holding or hair petting but… he also hadn't instigated it, either, so. 

Mouri absently scrolled through his phone pausing occasionally to like a post on Instagram (and leave a comment for Kimijima), but mostly he was just letting the stress of life flow out of his body into the couch.

Ochi had a similar experience. However, instead of the mass cleaning following the end of every work day, there were either phone calls or emails to respond to, his regular communications with his attorney still occurring despite what was hopefully the worst of the worst having already passed, and then of course any company matters that he had to genuinely take care of despite the fact he wasn’t involved in the day to day operations of keeping it running. As such, there wasn’t much time to dwell on anything at all, and spending the evenings or early mornings after a graveyard shift reading a book was about the amount of energy Ochi felt like expending.

(Not that it was that different than life pre-epidemic. Just now he only made it through a book a week rather than several, as many nights he passed out not long after beginning his evening read.)

Despite what happened last time that Mouri spent the evening, Ochi hadn’t really thought much about their conversation. Really, it was business as usual, except for the fact the world seemed to be burning down around them. But, it was another one of those nights where it just made sense for Mouri to spend the night at his place rather than the shoebox he called his apartment.

Regardless of anything, his company was of course very much enjoyed, even if Mouri did seem to be becoming one with the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell that he was scrolling Instagram. Ochi himself had an account, but it was rarely used. He didn’t really understand the point of oversharing on the internet - no matter how many times Tanegashima or Kimijima told him how ~great~ it could be.

“Anything interesting happening on Instagram?” He broke the silence without looking up from the iPad, touching his finger to the corner of the screen to turn the page.

A yawn escaped Mouri before he could respond and he rolled his neck. "Not really," he replied, resuming absently scrolling. Ever since quarantine began, he actually thought Instagram had become one of the first signs of the apocalypse. It was strange to see a place that had been for so long overthrown by young, attractive people gathering and taking group photos to make you feel like a potato suddenly filled with what Mouri felt were an appropriate number of cat videos and memes about being inside. Like the balance of the internet had been restored on Instagram.

His hand paused on one of Yamato's photos (who always managed to make such beautiful posts) of a tree that was shedding its blooms to begin getting its summer leaves. He had written something inspiring about life and hope for future that Mouri couldn't quite feel, but knew people needed to see right now. He turned his phone to Ochi to show him. "Yamato takes really good nature shots."

So he did. Yamato was a bit wise beyond his years - the way he thought was just on a level that not many could achieve. A quick glance at the picture’s description and Ochi could tell that Yamato was likely a beacon of light and hope for those who were looking toward him for guidance. It wasn’t the sort of thing he needed to read, either, but he appreciated that someone would. And it was a lovely picture.

“He does,” he agreed, reaching over to set the iPad to the side, and twisting his body enough so he could watch over Mouri’s shoulder. Resting his elbow on the back of the couch, he cradled his head in his hand, fingers pushing into light blonde hair. “It’s refreshing to not see people in a picture.”

"That's funny," Mouri said softly. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He opened up Yamato's page, scrolling down his pictures. Even before the pandemic it was mostly nature photos, sometimes people in the nature but in the way that felt like they were bragging about their amazing life, more just… existing. "A lot of his stuff is like that, though… like, here's one with Tezuka and Echizen, but…"

Quietly, Ochi watched Mouri scroll through Yamato’s instagram. Social media was like a highlight reel of people’s lives, in which either the perfect side (world travels, copious amounts of time spent with friends, good food, whatever perfection manifested in a certain someone) or the lowest side (people who believed themselves to be relatable because they posted a picture of their children wreaking havoc on their home) crashed into one another, creating a strange dissonance in imagery. That’s what made Yamato’s so refreshing - it was none of those things.

Of course he had pictures of himself with Tezuka and Echizen, though. How could those two ever be forgotten.

Ochi touched the screen of Mouri’s phone to expand one picture in particular, one that was clearly taken on top of a mountain during the sunrise. “That looks lovely.”

"I know, it makes me want to see it for myself." Mouri tilted his phone a bit more toward Ochi so he could get a better look. Mouri wasn't much of a mountain climber, per se, but a sunrise hike would be worth it for the vistas. He didn’t know if Ochi enjoyed that sort of thing, but he liked quiet and room to contemplate, so maybe. "Wanna do something like this together sometime?"

It sounded nice. Ochi wasn’t really one to go out and spend a whole lot of time in nature, if only because he didn’t really have the time to do so, but the sunrise coupled with there being a lack of people around actually sounded quite nice to him - especially given circumstances that had them running ragged. “I would like that,” he said, uncharacteristically agreeable. 

It was nice to see Ochi relaxed and agreeable. It might have been because of the stress, but Mouri liked this side of him. "When we have a bit more energy…" He lowered his phone and turned his attention to Ochi properly.

A vague look of amusement tilted the corners of Ochi’s lips upward. “If.” 

Mouri looked down at Usagi with a woebegotten expression. "Bun, your dad is making jokes. The world is ending."

Ochi was fairly certain that the world wasn’t going to end, but he truly could only be _fairly_ certain - depending on the news source, they were either heading toward a doom’s day scenario or everything was a total hoax. Frankly, Ochi fell somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, but that was neither here nor there.

“She’s used to it,” he assured Mouri, stroking one of Usagi’s fluffy ears. The poor thing really would need a quarantine shearing.

"You know," Mouri commented in deadpan. "I don't live here, but I know that's just not true." He was around Ochi enough to be certain he wasn't just banking all of his jokes throughout the day to tell Usagi when he went home, no matter how hilarious that mental image might be. He also wasn't sure she was hearing anything at all being in the state of pure bliss that she was presently in.

Working as an essential worker and likely having been exposed to the virus on numerous occasions, Ochi had been careful to adhere to self-quarantine as much as possible to limit further exposure. As such, the visits with his mother that usually happened a couple of times a week had since been limited to phone calls or facetime, neither of which was particularly satisfying when those visits were usually accompanied by fresh croissants from the local French bakery down the street.

“I wish you weren’t alone in that big place of yours, Tsukimitsu,” his mom had lamented on their last phone call. Tsukimitsu had wished to clarify that he had Usagi and she was plenty company, and that he could say the same of her just being alone whatsoever, but the former she would scoff at and the latter would only highlight the elephant in the room, and he didn’t wish to be the one to bring that up. 

“I know,” he told her.

But long after he hung up the phone and was sinking in the bath for the evening, his mind began to wander. 

“I’ve been thinking.”

That was a terrible idea, Mouri thought though he didn't say it aloud. He looked back up at Ochi, his hand absently running over Usagi and occasionally brushing fingers with Ochi’s. The casual touch of the hands had been normalized and didn't quite make his heart flutter as it had the first time Ochi touched his hand, but he still appreciated the human contact. It was something that was absent in his life both given the circumstances but also that he was so far from his family in Kobe.

It made him briefly worry for Ochi and his mother both grieving deep loss and separated while doing so. He didn't want to bring that up in a moment of quiet peace, though. He'd rather enjoy the moment. He made a, "hm" sound questioningly in his throat.

“What would you think about moving in?”

It just made sense. Mouri was paying a ridiculous amount of rent for a shoebox of an apartment. Ochi had only needed to be there once to know that it was not an appropriate living situation for someone who was of his size - there was barely any room to maneuver with the both of them there at once. The current situation sucked, and Ochi knew that Mouri was feeling lonely being so far away from family, and it wasn’t as though he could see other friends there even if he wanted to.

They spent so much time around one another for work, anyway, it would be an easy adjustment given that Mouri was one of the only people on the entire planet that Ochi could tolerate for long periods of time, and, well, Ochi more than had the space. And maybe, just maybe, his mother was onto something.

Of course, Ochi understood that there was an underlying implication in him asking, but regardless of anything it was a move of practicality. 

Mouri blurted out the first thing that came to his startled brain, " wh-wait, isn't that a bit fast? We haven't even kissed!" His cheeks flushed a scarlet deep enough to match his hair and he felt his heart pound in rapid confusion in his chest.

So maybe Ochi wasn’t completely immune. Underneath a fluff of platinum blonde hair and tree trunks for legs was the cocky fourteen year old who thought he was hot shit in middle school - he wasn’t known just for being the “mental assassin” at Hyoutei. There was the tiniest, most minuscule of entertainment in inciting such a reaction in Mouri, but Ochi would forever hold his peace.

And, truly, it wasn’t about that. In differing circumstances or for many other people, it would certainly be fast. The question just had nothing to do with that.

But, if the fact that they hadn’t kissed was Mouri’s concern about the matter, then Ochi could do something about that, too.

So he kissed him.

Well. That. Was a thing. That happened. 

At first Mouri was not sure how to react, freezing in place with his hand still gently rested on Usagi. Then, as if in slow motion, he dropped his phone on the couch and got his fingers tangled up in Ochi’s shirt. It may have been a bit much a bit fast as he flexed his biceps to hold Ochi in place by the shirt, but he had thought about kissing this man on a near daily basis for almost a decade and, well… 

All at once relief washed over him mixing with frustration bubbling in his stomach. All he had to do was tell Ochi he hadn’t ever kissed him and _now_ he finally got it through his skull to do it? 

With the soft groan of the leather as Mouri moved to take hold of his shirt, Usagi fled her position between them on the couch, running away at top bunny speed to where she would be safe from both of them. Ochi paid her no mind - she would be just fine - and he also made no effort to dissuade Mouri from keeping him in place. 

Admittedly, it had been a very long time since he had kissed anyone at all.

Unfurling his fingers, Ochi moved his hand to rest gently on Mouri’s stomach. The body language suggested well enough that Mouri had conflicting emotions; Ochi felt that they uncorked a bottle.

With Usagi out of the way, Mouri pulled himself closer, also having to angle his neck uncomfortably to keep kissing Ochi. But a tiny bit of discomfort wasn't going to distract him as the light touch on his stomach set fire to his insides and immediately sent his mind spiraling down a completely different path that also wasn't uncharted territory when it came to his idle thoughts about Ochi. He thought about Ochi’s hands and how they would feel on his skin. He thought about Ochi's hand on his leg the other night.

Whether in frustration or pleasure he wasn’t really sure, but a sound slipped from his throat that bordered between a moan and a growl and he shifted closer again. 

The bottle had been more firmly corked than perhaps Ochi had truly realized. What was between them was palpable, electric, and Ochi was realizing just how long it had been since anyone had been this close. 

Scraping his other hand up Mouri’s back, Ochi trailed his fingertips over the back of Mouri’s neck before threading deep into curls, holding him in place much as Mouri had him pinned. That… _noise_ did nothing to contain his self-control, Ochi responding in kind by slipping his hand away from his stomach to pull them flush together, and parting his lips to do this damn kissing thing properly. 

Whatever shreds of intelligent thought were left in Mouri’s brain promptly ceased and he melted against Ochi wanting nothing more than for him to keep _doing that_ \- keep taking command of the situation, keep holding him, keep kissing him. His stomach bubbled anxiously and his brain raced with anticipation of what he might do next, how he might move next. Mouri’s brow furrowed against his thoughts and another, this time louder, sound escaped him. 

The fluttering in his stomach was at odds with the way his heartbeat seemed to throb in his ears, and still Ochi couldn’t find it in him to de-escalate the situation - not with the way Mouri seemed to meld against him, a heavy, solid weight that somehow fit just right. And of course he did, that small voice in the back of his head reminded him, he was the only person who ever had.

That thought had Ochi loosening his hold on Mouri’s hair to instead wrap his arms fully around him as though closeness could be further replicated, giving in to Mouri’s whim to keep kissing him, keep holding him close, keep encouraging those sounds that wreaked havoc on his senses.

Finally not afraid Ochi would try to escape, Mouri’s hands disengaged from his shirt - one to rest on his face, the other around the back of his neck. His kisses became softer, too, as the desire he felt for Ochi became tempered with thoughts of his kindness, gentle hands, and bright eyes that often betrayed a smile that didn't reach his lips. If he had been told as a teenager that one day Ochi Tsukimitsu would pull them together like two pieces of an oversized puzzle and kiss him in a way that made his cheeks and neck flush red, he wouldn't have known what to do.

He hardly knew what to do, now.

This. This was more something that Ochi could handle and bring himself back to solid ground since he wasn’t quite sure that’s where he had been all this time. His kisses matched those of Mouri - gentler and lingering longer than the breakneck pace they had before.

Ochi wasn’t entirely convinced that he would have said no to something more. 

With one more lingering brush of lips, Ochi disengaged, pulling back enough to look at Mouri’s face from up close. His flushed cheeks were new - the only time Ochi had really noticed such things was when Mouri emerged from under the shower spray that was probably scalding, knowing him, and it didn’t hit the high points of his cheeks as this did.

When Mouri opened his eyes, they were wide. Not from surprise, but he wanted to take in all of the sight in front of him. He felt like he had looked at Ochi for _hours of his life_ but somehow was just noticing how long his eyelashes were and how they hung lazily when looking at him. The rollercoaster of feelings and sensations he was on was finally slowing to a halt and left him just… full. Full of things.

He felt like he should say something, but he wasn't really sure what. A quiet, "Tsuki…" slipped from his lips. 

The rise and fall of their chests seemed to be in unison. Ochi loosened his arms to more carefully drape them low around Mouri’s back instead, not quite ready to let go of the physical contact. It felt as though the feeling bubbling in his stomach was going to overflow, much like the uncorking of the bottle of whatever that had been.

“...Yes?” He asked quietly.

Now Mouri really had no idea what to say. How did you succinctly sum up a decade of wishes and hopes? How did you acknowledge the pressure finally being slowly released on a pot about to boil over? He knew it was the second time in a week he said it, but it was all that made sense. "I love you."

Without all the shuffling on the couch, Ochi could feel Usagi hopping around his feet, giving him little nudges with her head as though she were his personal cheerleader. The words didn’t come as a surprise - really, it was all that made sense.

The only other thing that made sense was to join their lips together once more, this time accompanied by a gentle brush of fingertips on Mouri’s cheek.

Mouri closed his eyes, returning the gentle kiss and resting his hands on Ochi’s chest. Maybe no words had been spoken, but he understood Ochi’s response just fine. 

For the second time, Ochi drew away slowly, leaving his eyes closed and taking the opportunity of silence to collect his thoughts. They were filled with a whole lot of nothing, truth be told, so silent contemplation likely wasn’t going to do jack shit, but it was worth a shot. 

An unexpected turn of events. He could hear Kimijima’s cackling already.

A strange look crossed over Ochi’s face, bringing Mouri back to some semblance of reality. More grounded this time, he asked, "Tsuki? You look like you're thinking something."

Near immediately, Ochi responded, “Not particularly.” He didn’t want to give Kimijima even an iota of amusement that he was thinking about his damned suggestion from the other night. Meeting Mouri’s eyes once more, he asked, “You?”

"Nothing smart," Mouri admitted sheepishly. In the spirit of honesty, though, he added with a bit of embarrassment in his voice, "I have been thinking about how it's been a, uh, embarrassingly long time that I've been thinking about doing that."

Ochi would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought of it even once. It didn’t plague his thoughts simply because he didn’t really think about those things very often, but it was… nice. All of it was nice. And even if it wasn’t something he thought about often, his body was very much starved for that intimate touch.

“I understand.” Ochi loosened his hold to brush his hair out of his eyes, tucking the longest piece behind its ear. “It has… been a long time for anything like that.”

Mouri laughed and said, "Yeah, same." He had dated a bit in university, nothing very serious, though. For one he was trying to power through his program, but for another anyone he dated didn't stand a chance in hell against his feelings for Ochi. It was actually kind of horrible when he thought of it that way. He probably hadn't been very fair to those people he had been with. 

Dating at Hyoutei was fairly simple. He was popular, the girls flocked to him as captain of the tennis team, and it was before he shot up to the height he was in his adult life. There hadn’t ever been anything particularly serious - no one had really kept his interest, nor did they really understand that he was actually most content curling up with a book. By the time he was nearing the end of his schooling career, those prospects had become fewer and far between - though this time due to his reputation more than anything else - and then nothing particularly noteworthy came along in university and beyond.

Except for Mouri.

“Admittedly, it makes you begin to wonder if you’re even still good at it,” he mused out loud, not quite giving way to his thoughts, but also not usually the type of conversation Ochi engaged in.

"Uh. Yes. Yes you are." Mouri laughed, unable to help himself. If this was Ochi out of practice, lord save his soul when he was on his A-game. He didn't know if he would survive. He definitely had never felt that way from a kiss before.

Ochi quirked a brow. “So it was satisfying, then.”

"Now you're making fun of me." Mouri moved away from Ochi a little - staying close enough to feel his warmth but enough to make room, again, for Usagi who had turned herself into a bunny battering ram and was nudging Ochi’s leg repeatedly.

“A little bit.” In Mouri moving away enough to make a bunny-sized wedge between them, Ochi patted the couch to signal her to jump up, which she wasted exactly zero seconds to do just that. Once she settled herself, he also adjusted to accommodate the both of them. “Is this still comfortable?”

"Yep." Mouri loved having Usagi around, too. He didn't have a pet at home (he didn't have room, time, or the lease that allowed it) so she was a comfort as something soft and affectionate. Plus the way her little nose was constantly twitching warmed him to the soul. 

Now settled, albeit far more closely than they began, Ochi idly stroked Usagi’s ears while thoughtfully drumming his fingertips on Mouri’s lower back. There was still the matter of Ochi’s initial question that had so completely derailed them that he genuinely wouldn’t be surprised if Mouri had shoved it out of his mind. But, it lingered in Ochi’s thoughts, and so he asked, “So, is that a yes?”

"Hm?" Mouri had been lost watching the little nose twitching and apparently didn't hear what Ochi had asked. Probably asking if it was time for bed which it definitely was, he was sleepy and had a lot to think about. 

...After what just happened, would Ochi want to sleep in the same bed?

He pushed that thought aside as quickly as it came.

Ochi slowly watched the cogs turned in Mouri’s head. Now it was probably too late to really discuss anything in detail, but at the very least it’d be preferred to have an answer so that the necessary preparations could begin. Ochi clarified, “Moving in. Is that a yes?”

Huh?

“Wait - I mean, I know I said the kissing thing, but that still is pretty fast, Tsuki.” Mouri held up one of his hands to give a small, dismissive wave. _What the hell did he talk about with Kimijima the other day, anyway?_ Ever since the two of them spoke, he was doing all kinds of things that weren’t out of character, per se, but defied the sort of expectations that Mouri had grown to have of Ochi. He wasn’t complaining, exactly, but…

“It’s practical,” Ochi pressed on with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulder. He’d pull out the list of reasons why it just made sense, but he hoped that Mouri could at least go through those scenarios in his head, or this was going to turn into a long conversation. “And it makes sense.”

“P-Practical.” Mouri felt his mind bending trying to wrap around that idea, but he came back to _I just said I love you and now you want to move in_ which he couldn’t seem to shake. And wasn’t it, like, a month ago that Ochi had said he didn’t want to be locked in quarantine with any of them - Mouri included? What changed? Was he just being an asshat on the internet or had Kimijima well and truly broken him.

So. It was going to be a longer conversation after all.

“Yes, practical,” Ochi confirmed, using his thumb to rub above Usagi’s nose gently. “You live in a shoebox with rent that is entirely way too high. I have the space. We work together, it would mean we would start and end in the same place.” You’re lonely, he added internally, but figured that could be left unsaid. Both of them knew well that the other was lonely, there was no reason to highlight it.

Well. Well then. Mouri couldn’t argue with any of those points of practicality. Ochi did have a second bedroom that was more spacious than Mouri’s entire apartment. He had a point that they often came and went at the same times since they worked together as partners in the police force and it would save him a heapload on rent… though he felt awful thinking that way, but he knew for a fact Ochi wouldn’t let him pay him a dime toward living expenses. After the huge windfall he had received in the form of his father’s inheritance, his money didn’t even have to think about money. Plus, well, everything he had just been thinking about Usagi being nice to have around, the kitchen was nice and big, and between the two of them they could split cooking and cleaning and such to make it not such a burden on either of them. 

But as he mulled it over, there was a thought that nagged at him. Even though Ochi was presenting it as a practical roommate sort of situation, it seemed like that wasn’t what actually made him think of it. If it was, he would have asked long before any of this. “Tsuki,” Mouri ventured again, his voice turning serious. “Are you lonely?”

So much for not highlighting it. Subconsciously, a small frown tugged the corners of Ochi’s lips downward, a slight furrow in his brow. That wasn’t the reason why. It was an element, sure, but not why he asked. He could have lived in the shoebox Mouri lived in; it had nothing to do with the size of his space, it wouldn’t have changed anything, no matter what his mother may have thought. But…

With a short sigh, Ochi said, “That’s not why. But I can’t deny there’s an element of that.”

Ochi wasn’t wrong that it _was_ practical and if he was feeling lonely… well, so was Mouri. “...Okay. But, it won’t be until August at the earliest. My lease isn’t up until end of July and getting out of a lease or getting a sublet in this market is going to be absolutely impossible.” Restrictions were lessening in other countries around leasing, so it was possible similar reform was coming to Japan, but until then he was stuck. He could let his agent know it was going to be August that he would be out, at least. “But until then I can stay here more often, if that sounds good.” 

It was meant to be a wave of dismission, but instead Ochi’s fingers tapped on Mouri’s back once more as he spoke. “If you move out now, there’ll be time for any virus remnants to be well and truly gone by the time it’s rented once more.”

“...We hope.” The latest news was that the virus, once believed to live 7 days on surfaces and 14 days in a carrier, could potentially live up to six weeks or more. The more Mouri spent reading about it, the more he was starting to believe this was some sort of divine punishment on humanity for daring to exist. “But, that is a good point… I just can’t really justify leaving it vacant and paying rent on it. It’s such a huge chunk of my paycheck.”

As much as possible, Ochi tried to stay clear from the news - at least, from most news sources unless they were extremely reputable and provided only the facts. Unfortunately that had seemed to be a struggle regardless of whether he looked in Asia or Europe. God only knew what was going on in North America. Ochi wouldn’t touch that with a thousand metre pole.

“We can roll it into the bills. Or it can be a business expense or something,” he said, with another shrug of the shoulder.

“We” and “bills” stuck together in Mouri’s mind as he wondered how in the fresh hell they went from confessions to kissing to mingling finances. “Um - Tsuki, that’s too much. I mean, it’s not like I pay billions of yen for the apartment, but it’s not a negligible expense to take on like stopping for a Starbucks once a week or something.” He couldn’t ask Ochi to add 120k yen to his bills to cover an empty apartment every month.

It was a lot of money, but it would be nothing but a tiny drop in the bucket. Ochi understood that most - the _vast majority_ \- could not think of money in the way that he did, and it was difficult to conceptualize if you didn’t grow up with that sort of wealth. But, Ochi did still work, even with his measly officer salary, and realistically he didn’t spend enough on daily life to warrant dipping into the trust, anyway.

“I know that it’s not negligible,” he said, at least to recognize it for what it was. “It’s a worthwhile expense to me, however.” 

Mouri wasn’t sure he had a strong argument against any of this, it all just seemed wild. But it also seemed like Ochi didn't mean for it to be a romantic proposition so much as one truly of convenience. And it _was_ logical, just… there was some part of Mouri that worried he was no better than all the shit Ochi's brothers accused his mom of if he accepted. And wouldn't it just make more trouble for Ochi in the long run? 

"I… can't argue any of that," Mouri admitted, his tone still serious. "But I'm worried this will make more trouble for you. Having someone move in with you, someone they'll assume you're romantically involved with, who happens to be a man, and…" Mouri hesitated again, his brain finally catching up to his mouth. 

"...Maybe this is a dumb question, but just to be totally clear, are you asking me to move in as your roommate or as…?"

And that could very well be the case. Ochi was not naive to think that it wouldn't potentially raise some eyebrows, and could possibly come to bite him in the ass sooner than later. But, there was also the matter of simply… living his life. It was unrealistic to expect himself to live always looking over his shoulder at what move his brothers could make next. He could be the very beacon of innocence and they would still find something to hone in on - it wasn't something that was just going to stop since they lost the initial round.

The matter of Mouri being a man? Well, any of his “immoral homosexuality” had already been used against him, so why would he concern himself too much over actually playing into it? It wasn't any of their business what he did between the sheets, and he would fight that until the death if he had to. His privacy had already been invaded enough - there wasn't going to be any more of that. 

The last question, though… that was a good question. When Ochi asked Mouri, he had no foresight into what would transpire mere moments later. 

"I'm not too worried about conclusions that might be drawn - I'll deal with that if and when it comes up." The other thing that Ochi would fight to the death on would be the protection of Mouri. Regardless of how anything proceeded from this point, it was critical to keep Mouri sheltered from it as much as humanly possible. "As for your question…" He paused briefly to collect his thoughts. "I suppose it depends on what we call this. I didn't anticipate any of… that to happen."

So he was planning on asking him to move in then Mouri complicated things by making the kiss comment but he was doubling down on it. Got it. Mouri took in a deep breath and nodded once. "So, when you asked the first time, you meant as roommates or work partners." He made a cycling motion with one hand, drawing annoyance from the bunny he had to stop petting to make the motion. "But then we kissed and now maybe it could be different?"

But the whole thing Mouri had been objecting to in the beginning was that they were just figuring things out and everything was happening out of order. So, fine. If they were going to do everything all out of order, he would just plow ahead. "I think if it's as romantic partners, I'd want to know that's what you want. That's a pretty big step to make right now. If it's as roommates then we might need to, uh, figure out some other stuff separately."

At the end of the day, it didn’t really matter to Ochi. It was a bit like arguing semantics, and he wasn’t sure what would change whether they decided to call it roommates or something more. Either way, Ochi wanted it. Did it matter beyond that?

“I want it,” Ochi said, not specifying what, exactly, he wanted, though Mouri could infer the meaning. “Isn’t the rest of it semantics?” 

Mouri reasoned with himself that if he was going to murder Ochi, he might as well wait until he would at least get some slice of the inheritence first. 

Barely controlling his desire to explode at Ochi, though anger turned in his chest like a red-hot supernova, Mouri looked Ochi in the eyes and replied, “No. No it isn’t. I get that all of this is sudden and confusing, it is for me too, and I know that talking about things doesn’t come naturally to you, but we gotta do it. I’m sorry if that makes things tough or if that delays this whole moving thing, but we gotta be on the same page. Period.”

For a few beats of his heart, Ochi quietly regarded Mouri.

Generally speaking, Mouri wasn’t one to really have a temper. It was there, Ochi had seen it on numerous occasions given their line of work and other various relationships in their lives, but it had never been directed toward Ochi. And he respected it - he respected that he pushed and got bitten in return. Nearly a decade ago, when the senpai-kouhai relationship was strong and Ochi knew that Mouri had a deep seeded admiration toward him, it never would have reared its head. But that gap had closed further and further over the years, ultimately closed nearly entirely upon entering the police academy at the same time, and now it seemed as though Mouri had grown a pair.

Which meant that Ochi needed to meet him at that level. It wasn’t fair to expect otherwise.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Ochi tilted his head to the side, his hair falling out of his eyes once more as a thoughtful look passed over his face. “Do you have anything you would like to add or should I speak?”

Immediately deflating, Mouri moved his hand away from Usagi to rest on Ochi’s leg reassuringly. It wasn’t like him to lose his temper with Ochi and even though he knew he said all the right things, he didn’t want to shut him down, either, when they were on the precipice of good communication. He didn’t like when Ochi’s hair fell over his eyes and he couldn’t see them anymore. “...No, go ahead. I’m listening.” 

Ochi considered his words carefully for a moment. It wasn’t because he didn’t know what to say, but that clearly communicating his feelings was difficult because he recognized that it was different than what he would consider “normal,” if there even was such a thing as that. 

But, there was something that could be said about winging it, as well. And so he did. 

“I have been hesitant to put words to what I’m feeling because I don’t know how to communicate them in a way that you’ll understand.” With tension dissipating once more, Usagi shifted to half flop over Ochi’s lap, her nose twitching against Mouri’s fingers. “Given our conversation the other night and a conversation with my mother I had since, I began to consider the possibility of you moving in. I meant what I said about how I thought it would be practical. Of course, I recognized that by coming off our conversation the other night, there was an… implication, if you will, of something more. And, I did ask you knowing that implication would be assumed.”

Mouri nodded to indicate that he was following along with what Ochi was saying. Even just hearing Ochi recognize that it was reasonable for him to be confused about the implication and make the assumption that he did served to further deflate him from the emotional peak he hit moments before.

“I struggle to put my feelings into words because to me, my feelings encompass all of it. I don’t look at you and put you in a labeled box that says ‘romantic interest’ or ‘partner,’ because while those things are true and if you need me to put it in those terms, I will, from my perspective it transcends that.”

Taking a brief pause, Ochi pushed his hair back out of his eyes, and held Mouri’s gaze. “I don’t really care what it looks like from the outside. If we decide to call one another significant others, and others take issue with that, then let them take issue with it. I will do everything in my power to ensure that it impacts you minimally. But, I also recognize that it feels fast to you, and I will respect your wishes if you would like to table the idea for the time being.”

That was the context Mouri needed. He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding and his eyes drifted down from Ochi’s back to Usagi who was booping his hand with her nose. “I wanna be here with you,” he told Ochi after a pause to find the right words for what he was thinking. “And Usagi-san.” He looked back up to Ochi’s face, meeting his eyes once more. “I’m sorry I lost my temper, I felt like I was being tugged in two really different directions. I’ll… I’ll start packing.” Quickly, he added, “but will you help me make a reasonable effort to find someone to sublet the apartment? I might really help someone out right now and I don’t feel good about wasting that money, even if it’s not a huge amount to you.”

It was a fair compromise. Ochi was sure that there was someone in his network who would appreciate the appealing location of Mouri’s apartment. As far as Tokyo apartments went, it wasn’t _bad_ , Ochi just couldn’t conceptualize how a man of Mouri’s stature could ever feel comfortable in that sort of space.

“I will,” he agreed, putting his hand to the back of Mouri’s neck. “We will get it occupied.” It was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but wandering fingertips brushed over the baby hairs on the edge of his hairline. “And, you don’t have to apologize. I was being an ass.”

Mouri wasn’t going to argue with him, there. Not that he could think about anything, suddenly, other than how Ochi’s fingers played over the hair of his neck. Another breath escaped him a bit shakily and he said softly, “You really don’t know what you do to me.” He tried to say more but a little, nervous laugh was all that came out.

Ochi carefully watched the shift in Mouri’s expression as his fingers danced along. Admittedly, he thought he did know - it had just become very apparent very quickly that maybe he didn’t know the extent at all. “I don’t,” he admitted, though he didn’t stop what he was doing. “I thought I did, but that was my failing.”

“Usagi-san,” Mouri said softly, gently coaxing her off the couch. “Cover your eyes.” He pulled himself closer to Ochi, again, and let go of the whole conversation to just enjoy the touch of his hand, the way their bodies melded together as though designed to fit together, and the touch of their lips as they kissed.


End file.
